


The Cairo Heist

by libraryannex



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4405253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraryannex/pseuds/libraryannex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World class thief and teenager Ezekiel Jones is on a jewel heist at the Cairo Museum. If only the pesky librarian who calls himself Flynn Carsen would stay out of his way. A prequel fic set a few years before 'And The Crown of King Arthur'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cairo Heist

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that deals with the encounter between Flynn and Ezekiel that is mentioned briefly in the pilot episode.  
> I don't know how long it will be yet, but it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and I wanted to publish it for The Librarians Fic Week. Enjoy!
> 
> Side note: As I was writing this I developed a headcanon that Ezekiel's methods are the exact opposite of the Leverage team. He enjoys the notoriety and showmanship of being a thief too much to keep a low-profile.

"A detour, Charlene! _De-tour_."

If the man's booming American voice didn't raise a red flag for  _tourist_ , his penchant for wearing a dated three-piece suit in the middle of an Egyptian summer practically screamed it.

"I just wanted to tour the museum for a few minutes. No – no, don't take it out of my paycheck. I know this isn't a vacation! Charlene –"

The queue into the Cairo museum was long, and Ezekiel Jones’ boredom was itching that part of his mind that refused to let him be subtle about his heists. He shrugged. The loud American was practically asking for it –no, begging for it – and Ezekiel wasn't one to deny himself the simple pleasures of life.

"I'm so sorry mate!" Ezekiel yelped in feigned panic after he shoved himself into the eccentric man.

"S'okay." The distracted tourist hurriedly bent down to retrieve his fallen phone. Ezekiel grinned. It was almost too easy. 

 "Charlene? No, as far as I know the demonologists have left the mummies in the tomb, well, dead. For the time being."

Despite being halfway into the museum with the man’s wallet in tow, the last bit of conversation stopped him in his tracks. "Knew he was insane," he muttered, dashing past the rest of the line and carrying on to his main objective.

He spun his hat backwards and rolled his eyes at the tourists bee-lining for the newest exhibits on Tutankhamun. The new debacle was either a couple boring statuettes that would fetch an insulting sum or a set of counterfeited busts moonlighting as the genuine artifacts now sitting in some Billionaire’s humidity-controlled basement. Speaking of – he gazed up at the second floor. Only one guard stood in the corner, unlike yesterday's swarm of security.

His plan must have worked. Funny how overriding the humidity and temperature controls for a few small hours could close down an entire wing of a museum.

He climbed the steps eagerly, pulling out his phone when he was a few feet away from the guard blocking his destination. With a press of a button, a string of Arabic words filled the watchperson's earpiece. He took off running, revealing a placard that read _Royal Mummy Room_ in multiple languages, and several lines of tape that indicated that the exhibit was currently off-limits. Jones pulled down the tape and grabbed onto the door handles.

A few minutes with the company of the dead and he'd walk away from this heist wealthier than he'd ever been.

"You're going to have to be more subtle than that."

The American put his boot out to stop the door from opening, now towering over the thief with an air of amusement. Moving toward him, he lifted up the camera that hung around Ezekiel's neck and laughed.

"This is obviously broken. Also, you're what? 16 or 17? No teenager would use this old thing." He dropped it and let it hit Jones in the chest with a _thump_. "Cute shtick for a pickpocket."

"When you look like a stupid tourist, people tend to want to avoid you. Makes them easier to rob." Ezekiel waved his hand at Flynn's general stature. "Honestly, you'd be perfect for the job. Nice suit."

The man straightened his jacket and shot the teenager a nasty look.

Ezekiel took a few side steps, trying to pass by his unwelcome acquaintance. He didn't have much time and his new friend didn't exactly have an inside voice. "Good eye, though. Doesn't change the fact I have your money in my back pocket."

The man moved aside and let the thief into the exhibit. He followed, clearly interested in the teenager’s next plan of action. "Not too many people to pickpocket in here."

Ezekiel pretended to count the exhibited mummies that surrounded them. "No? I'd say there's about a dozen."

"So you break open a hermetically-sealed case and destroy a perfectly preserved mummy." He pressed his hands up against a case to examine a specimen. "And hopefully – _hopefully_ being the keyword here – walk out with the jewelry displayed in the same box."

"That's the gist of it," Ezekiel replied mindlessly as he pulled out some tools from his backpack. “Minus the brilliant bit where I disable the environmental and vibration sensors and steal the amulet of Maat-Ka-Re.”

The man snorted, clearly unimpressed. "All that and you didn't even loop the cameras in the exhibit. They’ll be here to arrest you in a couple minutes, I’ll get my stuff back, and all is right with the world."

Ezekiel groaned in annoyance and dropped his tools on top of a glass case. “One, I like a challenge. Two, improvisation is the key to a heist.  I just like to see how things play out, test myself. Which I'm failing because someone is wasting my time.”

He fished the man's items out of his pocket.

"Here, take your wallet back –" He flipped it open to read a name on a Driver's License, and instead was greeted to the man's cheesy mug printed on a Metropolitan Public Library card. "Flynn Carsen. A librarian? Seriously? Again, it explains some things."

Flynn snatched it out of Ezekiel's hands and stuffed it into his suit pocket. 

"Flynn Carsen," Ezekiel repeated himself as he picked up his tools and continued his work. "The name rings a bell."

"I'm well-known in a few academic circles." 

"No, mate, I'm not talking about your weird Demonologist cult or anything. You’re on a Wanted list. Interpol, I think."

The smugness was wiped from the librarian’s face and was replaced with slight panic. Flynn ruffled through his mess of hair and leaned against a glass case in thought.

“Charlene was supposed to take care of that,” Flynn said quietly to himself in disappointment, a million scenarios of smuggling magical artifacts running through his mind. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Do you remember what it was for?”

“No idea.” Ezekiel was halfway through a case now, his cutting tools quietly buzzing next to the ear of Ancient Egyptian royalty.  “Wanted Lists are how we keep score. So that must make you a damn good criminal if you’ve caught Interpol’s attention. Or a very, very stupid Librarian.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
